


We Belong Together

by shions_heart



Series: Lionheart [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Back Together, M/M, Porn With Plot, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 04:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10712085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: Six years after the emperor sent him to the border for falling in love with the crown prince, Kuroo Tetsurou receives an invitation to return to the palace.





	We Belong Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third and final installment of my Lionheart series! Please read the first two fics to avoid confusion. :)
> 
> ((This, uh, got really explicit . . . /)u(\ ))

 

 

 

 

**Six Years Later**

 

* * *

 

 

The evening air is crisp, as Tetsurou walks along the border wall. The forest that surrounds the Nekoma capitol city is quiet. It has been for a while. There were several skirmishes perpetrated by the neighboring kingdom of Nohebi back when Tetsurou first joined the garrison, but over time it became apparent to all that Nekoma’s border guard can’t be defeated. The attacks stopped and peace has reigned.

As grateful as many are about that fact, Tetsurou can’t help but feel like his time is being wasted here. He’s risen up the ranks due to his skillset, and he now trains soldiers under him, as a captain of the border guard. His commander speaks highly of him often, but Tetsurou knows his heart isn’t in it. He doesn’t truly belong here. He never has.

“Kuroo.”

Tetsurou turns just in time to see an apple fly at his face. He catches it on instinct, looking over at the man who threw it. Yaku Morisuke grins at him as he approaches, and Tetsurou smirks in return, taking a bite of the apple.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Yaku says, coming to stand beside Tetsurou, crossing his arms as he looks out across the forest.

Tetsurou follows his gaze, and then looks higher, above the trees, to the expanse of stars that litter the sky. It’s a clear night, not a cloud to be seen. It’s beautiful, but Tetsurou’s grown used to its beauty. His heart longs for a different sight.

“Sometimes I think this view makes all the standing around worth it,” Yaku says. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad we’re not at war. But the quiet, peaceful life has never really suited me.”

Tetsurou smirks. “Trust me, with the new recruits we have I don’t think we’ll be living a quiet or peaceful life for a while.”

Yaku rolls his eyes. “You’ve got that right. Haiba alone makes me want to kick him every time he in training. How does one drop a staff _that_ many times in a thirty minute session?”

Tetsurou laughs. “But admit it, you’d be bored out of your skull without him and the others.”

Yaku shrugs, leaning forward to rest his arms on the parapet in front of them. “Probably,” he concedes. He glances sidelong at Tetsurou, then. “Congratulations on the invitation, by the way. I guess the new emperor appreciates what we do here better than the last one.”

Tetsurou feels his mouth go dry. He swallows hard. “Uh, yeah.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he lowers his gaze to the path leading to the city gates.

Yaku sighs wistfully. “I bet there’s going to be amazing food at the palace. Probably great entertainment too. All for the commander and his captains.” He gives Tetsurou a smirk. “Maybe there’ll be some women, too, wanting to show their appreciation for keeping the capitol safe.” He nudges Tetsurou’s side with a wink.

Tetsurou snorts, rolling his eyes. “I doubt it.”

Yaku straightens. “Still, you should try and have some fun before you’re forced to return to this dreary place with all the insubordinate newbies.” He grins.

Tetsurou nods. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He looks down at the apple in his hand, his appetite fading.

Six years. It’s been six years since he’s been in the palace. The emperor passed away suddenly a year ago. Heart failure, the doctors said. His son assumed the throne and almost immediately Tetsurou could tell the people were happier. The new emperor lifted cruel laws that made living in Nekoma easier and better for everyone.

Every day for the first few weeks of the new reign, Tetsurou waited for the summons. He even packed his things, so sure he was that the letter would come at any moment. But it never did. This is the first time Tetsurou’s heard anything from the palace since he arrived at the wall, and it’s an invitation that includes his fellow captains and his commander.

_Did he forget about me? Did he find someone to replace me? Does he not want me anymore?_

“Kuroo?”

Tetsurou blinks back into the present, looking down at Yaku. “Yeah?”

Yaku grins. “Bring back some of that food for me, will you?”

Tetsurou smirks. “Of course.”

 

 

***

 

 

The palace is decked out lavishly in the Nekoma colors of black, white, and red. Tetsurou stands outside the throne room with his fellow captains, all of them dressed in their finest kimonos. Tetsurou’s heart pounds in his ears, his chest tightening as the seconds tick by. Finally, the doors open and they are ushered inside.

The room has been transformed since the last time Tetsurou saw it. Most likely for the festivities. There’s a long table stretching from the doors to the raised dais at the back of the room, piled high with delicious looking food. Soft cushions lie on the floor on either side of the table, and there are already people drinking and conversing. They pause as the commander and his captains enter, and the small group bows to those present before making their way to the dais.

Tetsurou’s vision narrows, pinpointing on the man dressed in a white kimono with red trimmings, kneeling at the center of the dais. His black hair is long and pulled back in intricate braids. A white and red mask in the shape of a cat’s head covers his face, and two guards kneel on either side of him, their hands resting casually on the katanas at their sides. The emperor’s royal advisor sits just behind him, and he leans forward as Tetsurou and the others approach to whisper something into the emperor’s ear.

Tetsurou kneels with his fellow captains, pressing his forehead to the floor.

“Rise,” the emperor says in a low, soft voice that sends a shiver down Tetsurou’s spine.

It’s been so long since he’s heard that voice. He lifts his head, looking at the masked face before him. He wonders why such an accessory was chosen.

_I want to see your face . . ._

“It is an honor to be before your presence, Your Excellency,” Tetsurou’s commander, an older man by the name of Nekomata Yasufumi. “My captains and I are flattered by your generosity.”

“You have all served my kingdom well, and have successfully defended this city for many years. We are at peace thanks to your efforts at the border. I felt it was time you were thanked for it.” The emperor’s voice sounds sincere, and Tetsurou’s chest squeezes around his heart.

_Is that the only reason why you called us here? Called me here?_

The question burns on his tongue. He wants to rip that stupid mask off and demand an explanation.

_You promised._

He’s surprised at the anger and hurt he feels. He thought he’d grown resigned to it. He knows his position. He knows the laws. But promises were made, so is he a fool for having believed his prince would follow through on them?

“Please, sit,” the emperor says, gesturing to the empty places at the table directly in front of the dais. “Eat. All this was prepared for you.”

Nekomata bows again, and beckons for his men to follow him. Tetsurou lingers a moment where he is, peering at the mask. The eyeholes are deeply set, shielding the emperor’s actual eyes from him. What expression is behind that porcelain face? Is he even looking at Tetsurou at all?

He takes his place at the table, but the food tastes like ash in his mouth, and the dancers that are brought forth do little to lift his spirits. He watches dully, as they twirl and leap with colored scarves in a beautiful display.

He does remember to slip a few pieces of meat and bread and fruit into his kimono to take to Yaku when they return the next day.

As they’re led to their chambers for the night, Tetsurou’s heart feels heavy. There’s a weight on his chest that he can’t shake. He stares at the room he’s given with a sense of emptiness. He’s never been inside the guest chambers at the palace before. It’s much nicer than his quarters at the wall. The bed looks soft and plush with multiple pillows and what appear to be silk sheets. There’s a desk and a chair beneath the window, and a wardrobe against the wall opposite the bed. A soft rug lies beneath his feet.

It’s all very nice, but Tetsurou’s been inside the prince’s chambers, and the grandness of this pales in comparison to the luxury of that room.

With a sigh, he peels off his kimono. He wraps the food he stole in it and ties it off so rats can’t get to it, before setting it on top of the wardrobe. His things were brought in earlier, and he turns to his pack to pull out a fresh cloth for his fundoshi and a light yukata. He places these on the bed before he begins his nightly exercises.

There’s a bathroom and toilet connected to the room, and he uses both after he’s worked up a good sweat. Once clean, he changes into the new fundoshi and the yukata, sitting on the bed then and looking down at his hands.

He’s under the same roof as the emperor. He has no idea how he’s supposed to sleep with that knowledge. His chest still aches with a sense of loss, and he scrubs his hands over his face with another deep sigh.

There’s a light knock at the door. Figuring it’s a servant come to take away his clothing to wash, he calls for them to come in.

The door opens and closes quietly.

“My stuff’s over there,” Tetsurou gestures without looking.

“Tetsurou.”

Tetsurou stiffens. He knows that voice.

Lifting his head, he stares at the man lingering by the door. His hair is no longer in the braids from before, and the long strands lay loose against his shoulders. He’s wearing a simple dark red yukata that makes his pale skin look stark against it. No longer wearing a mask, his large golden eyes stare at Tetsurou with an inscrutable expression.

Tetsurou’s heart flips, and he’s not sure whether it wants to plunge into his stomach or leap into his throat. Either way, he feels nauseous.

“Kenma,” he gasps, moving to stand. His mind whirls. He has so many questions, but they all die on his lips, as he stares at the man before him.

He looks older, his cheeks slimmer, his eyes wearier. But it’s still him. It’s still Kenma.

Tetsurou doesn’t know what to say, or what to think. After all this time, Kenma’s finally standing in front of him, and he can’t think of a damn word.

Kenma’s gaze falls to the floor. “I know you . . . might not be pleased to see me, but—”

Tetsurou finds himself moving forward, his mind still blank. All he knows is that he needs to hold him. He needs to feel him. He wraps his arms around Kenma and pulls him close to his chest, burying his face in the soft hair and breathing in his sweet scent. It takes a moment, but then Kenma’s reaching around him, holding him tightly, as he presses into Tetsurou. He can feel Kenma trembling, and so he grasps him more firmly.

“I’m sorry,” Kenma whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” Tetsurou reaches up to hold the back of his head, stroking it gently. He knows he deserves an explanation, but for now he just wants to bask in this moment. For so long he’s ached to feel Kenma’s warm body against his own. So many cold nights he slept fitfully in the straw futon at the border, his arms yearning for Kenma. His soul crying out for him.

And now he’s here. He’s finally here. Tetsurou can feel the pieces of his heart that had splintered slowly knitting back together.

He pulls away finally, taking Kenma’s face in his hands and smoothing his hair back, in order to look into his eyes.

“What happened?” he asks desperately, his voice nearly breaking on the words.

Kenma reaches up to grab his arms, his fingers digging into his skin. “My father wouldn’t let me leave. I couldn’t come see you. I couldn’t even contact you, because he had me monitored.”

Tetsurou nods. He figured something like that happened. But that doesn’t explain the year after the old emperor died.

“You promised you’d send for me after you took the throne,” he says, and he hopes it doesn’t sound accusatory, though Kenma still flinches.

“I know,” he murmurs, his gaze lowering once more. “But my father’s men . . . I knew if I sent for you immediately they’d find a way to keep you from me. I had to wait until enough time had passed that it wouldn’t be suspicious. I’ve appointed a lot of my own men into my council, but there are still men loyal to my father that resist me. I couldn’t risk them coming up with a stupid reason to have you killed.”

He reaches for Tetsurou’s face, and his fingers are cold, but Tetsurou leans into his touch anyway.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” Kenma says softly, earnestly. He shakes his head quickly. “I never did. I . . . I love you.”

That’s all Tetsurou wanted to hear. He draws Kenma close once more, sliding one hand into his hair, pressing against the back of his head to tilt it, as he kisses him. Kenma shivers, pressing his palms into Tetsurou’s chest and curling his fingers into his yukata, as he kisses him back. His lips are soft and sweet, and Tetsurou’s chest aches. For years he’s missed the taste of Kenma, and he can’t help but delve into his mouth swiftly, tongue seeking for that wet warmth. Kenma strokes his tongue along Tetsurou’s, moaning softly.

Blood rushes to heat every vein in Tetsurou’s body. Urgency kicks in; desperation and want and need and everything that he’s suppressed these past six years come crashing over him.

He reaches down, grabbing Kenma’s thighs and hoisting him up to press him against the door. Kenma’s legs wrap around his waist, and he whimpers against Tetsurou’s lips, as his fingers grip the shoulders of Tetsurou’s yukata. Tetsurou pulls away from the kiss, sliding his lips against Kenma’s jaw, pressing in against his neck, as he makes his way down the length of it. He sets his teeth against a soft spot, breathing heavily, as his heart pounds in a quick, staccato rhythm.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he pants, running his tongue along the spot before biting down.

Kenma gasps, his fingers tearing at the yukata, as his head falls back against the door. His chest heaves with each rapid breath.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he breathes. “Tetsurou. _My_ Tetsurou.”

Tetsurou groans at the sound of his name, rocking his hips against Kenma’s, as he holds him against the door. He’s still Kenma’s Tetsurou. He can hardly believe it. After all this time, he still belongs to Kenma.

And Kenma belongs to him too.

He soothes the red mark on Kenma’s neck with his tongue, before kissing his way back to Kenma’s lips. He kisses him deeply, while slipping one hand beneath the folds of Kenma’s yukata and sliding his fingers along the smooth, warm skin of his thigh to his ass. He feels a twitch in his member, as he realizes Kenma’s not wearing any undergarments. He can’t help but grin against Kenma’s mouth.

“You really wanted this,” he guesses.

“More than you think,” Kenma murmurs.

Curious, Tetsurou moves his hand further up, curling around Kenma’s ass cheek and poking his fingers against his entrance. His eyes widen, as he comes in contact with puckered skin and slick oil. His slips his finger inside Kenma’s hole with hardly any resistance.

“You prepared yourself,” he realizes, swallowing hard.

Kenma presses his forehead against Tetsurou’s, gripping the hair at the back of his head with one hand. “I need you,” he says in a low voice that sends blood rushing to Tetsurou’s growing erection.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pressing a second finger into Kenma. He slides up as far as he can, and Kenma whimpers, biting his lip as his eyes flutter closed. Tetsurou’s heart thuds in his ears, as he slowly draws them out only to push them back in. As he begins to thrust his fingers, Kenma’s legs tighten around him, squeezing his waist, as his thighs quiver.

“Tetsurou,” he whines, attacking the side of Tetsurou’s face with kisses. He comes to Tetsurou’s ear and bites it, licking along the curve of it before pressing his lips against it.

“Fuck me,” Kenma whispers directly into his ear.

Tetsurou’s knees go weak, buckling slightly. He can feel himself straining in his fundoshi, and he pulls his fingers out of Kenma, grabbing him around the waist then, as he turns from the door. He sets Kenma down and takes his shoulders, turning him around to face the desk against the wall. He pushes him forward, and Kenma shoves the chair out of his way before grasping the edge of the desk in both hands. Tetsurou makes little work of his clothing, shedding his yukata and fundoshi both.

“Do you have—” he asks breathlessly, taking hold of his aching member to give it a few quick tugs. He shudders at the pleasure that courses through him, and he drags his thumb across his own tip, through the pre-cum that’s gathered there, as he watches Kenma reach into his obi to pull out a small vial. He places it on the desk beside him, and Tetsurou snatches it up quickly.

He pours the oil over his hand, returning it to his cock swiftly. He moans, as he coats himself, watching Kenma, as his emperor draws up the material of his yukata, tucking it into his obi to reveal his bare ass. Tetsurou swallows hard, as he watches the oil that Kenma used before glisten on his inner thighs. Kenma rests his elbows against the desk, leaning forward to present his ass to Tetsurou. He turns his head, his eyes hooded and half-hidden behind his hair, as he looks at Tetsurou over his shoulder.

“Tetsurou,” he prompts, swaying his hips slowly.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Tetsurou says quickly, stepping up to take those hips and hold them still.

Kenma ducks his head, shivering, as Tetsurou pauses a moment to run his hands over Kenma’s skin reverently.

“I can’t tell you how often you were in my dreams,” he admits quietly.

“You were in mine too,” Kenma replies with a murmur.

Tetsurou reaches up to tuck some of Kenma’s hair behind his ear. He leans forward to kiss the side of his face gently. “I love you,” he says, as he takes hold of his cock and carefully begins to enter Kenma from behind.

Kenma shudders, his hands clenched into fists, as he leans against the desk for support, as his eyes flutter shut. Tetsurou drops his head onto Kenma’s shoulder, groaning at the sensation of Kenma’s tight, hot walls pressing in all around him. He moves cautiously, knowing that Kenma’s own fingers probably didn’t stretch him enough. He breaths through his teeth, as the pleasure spikes heat throughout his body.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” Kenma pants softly. “I only wanted you.”

“Me too,” Tetsurou admits, as he finally slots his hips against Kenma’s ass, full encased now. He shudders at the pressure. It’s so great, he’s afraid he’s going to burst if he moves. He takes a moment to breathe, for Kenma to adjust, but it’s only a couple seconds later that Kenma’s whimpering and shifting his hips back against him.

“Tetsurou.”

Tetsurou inhales shakily, straightening. He runs his hands over Kenma’s back, pushing his yukata further up, before grabbing hold of his hips once more. Carefully, he pulls out, quivering at the sensation of the releasing pressure. He waits until just his tip remains inside, before he shoves back in with a soft grunt. Kenma gasps, shoulders trembling. Tetsurou repeats the movement, sliding out slowly before thrusting back in.

He reaches around Kenma’s waist, finding his erection and wrapping his hand around it. It’s wet, and when he slides his palm up to feel the tip, pre-cum drips onto his fingers. Kenma whimpers softly at his touch, leaning further down to press his forehead against the desk. Tetsurou begins to stroke him as he thrusts, finding a good rhythm between his hand and hips. He tugs down as he pulls out, and tugs up as he thrusts in. In and out, up and down.

It’s not enough for Kenma, however, because after a few minutes of tugging and thrusting, he starts rolling his hips back against Tetsurou.

“ _Kuro_ ,” he whines, Tetsurou’s old nickname slipping out.

He can’t help but grin at the sound, and he knows instinctively what Kenma needs. He wraps his hand around the base of Kenma’s cock, holding it firmly, as he tightens his grip on Kenma’s hip and widens his stance. Inhaling sharply, he begins to thrust faster, harder, slamming into Kenma with each rock of his hips.

Kenma cries out, and the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the desk creaking from the weight rocking against it. Tetsurou pants, gasping for breath, as heat floods his body, with tingles of pleasure chasing after it. Kenma feels so good, and the pressure inside him builds. His head falls back, as he closes his eyes and allows himself to fall into the pleasure. He’s missed this so much. He’s missed Kenma so much. The feel of him. This feel of him.

“Kuro, _Kuro_ , ahh,” Kenma cries, trembling beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, _Kenma_ ,” Tetsurou moans in reply.

He can feel his orgasm swiftly rising. He tightens his grip on Kenma’s cock, and shoves into him with desperation, his hips falling into a disjointed rhythm, as the heat and pleasure converge, growing sharper and more potent.

“Ah, Kenma!” he cries, as he reaches the peak. He stiffens as he spills into Kenma, the pleasure sparking like lightning through his limbs.

Kenma squirms, his thighs quivering, and Tetsurou remembers he’s still squeezing his cock. He remembers why after a moment and pulls out, turning Kenma around to face him. Kenma’s face is flushed, his lips parted and shiny, his hair sticking to his face with sweat. His eyes are glassy with desire, as they meet Tetsurou’s, and Tetsurou can’t help but bend down to slip his tongue into that open mouth, tasting him hungrily.

Kenma tremors against him, hips lilting forward, as he seeks release.

“ _Kuro_ ,” he complains against Tetsurou’s lips.

Tetsurou can’t help but grin slightly. “You made me wait a year. A couple more minutes won’t kill you,” he says.

Kenma glares at him. “I’m your emperor. I can have you punished for this.”

Tetsurou smirks. “Promise?” he asks, the thought of being ‘punished’ by Kenma sending a new flush through his still heated body.

But he relents, dropping to his knees in front of Kenma. “I only wanted to taste you,” he assures him, pushing up the material of his yukata to tuck it into the front of his obi.

He looks at the cock in his hand, flushed pink and dripping profusely. Licking his lips, he drags his tongue through the pre-cum on the tip, and Kenma shivers, his hands dropping into Tetsurou’s hair, gripping the strands. Tetsurou slides his mouth forward onto him, sucking in his cheeks to drag as much friction as he can against the sensitive skin, as he pulls back. Kenma’s skin is hot and the taste is a salty tang in Tetsurou’s mouth that brings back pleasant memories. Keeping hold of him, Tetsurou reaches around to slide two fingers back up into Kenma. The hole is wet with the oil and Tetsurou’s own cum, and his fingers move easily.

Kenma gasps, his grip tightening in Tetsurou’s hair. Tetsurou wraps his lips around Kenma’s tip, sucking gently, as he curls his fingers hard against Kenma’s prostate.

“ _Kuro!_ ” Kenma yelps.

Tetsurou resists the urge to grin. He curls his fingers again, listening to Kenma’s cry, as he continues to suckle the head of Kenma’s cock. He begins to stroke the prostate then, a slow, leisurely gesture, as he carefully slides his other hand up Kenma’s throbbing member. He tilts his head back slightly, looking into Kenma’s flushed face. He’s on the verge of collapsing; Tetsurou can tell.

Popping Kenma’s cock out of his mouth, he holds the tip, and curls his fingers hard against Kenma’s prostate one last time.

Kenma shouts, as his body stiffens, and hot sticky strands burst from his tip into Tetsurou’s waiting mouth. He catches most of it on his tongue, but Kenma continues to shake, and drops land on his chin and nose before Kenma finally sags back against the desk, completely spent.

Tetsurou draws his fingers out, before licking his lips and wiping his face clean on the edge of Kenma’s yukata. Kenma’s legs are trembling, and so Tetsurou stands, picking Kenma up and carefully lying him down on the bed. He gently undresses him, before going to the bathroom to clean himself off and find a washcloth. He wets it with water before walking back to lie beside Kenma, carefully cleaning him as well.

Kenma’s eyes are still closed, and his chest is heaving with his quick breaths. Slowly, though, his frantic breaths begin to slow. Tetsurou bites his lip, as he watches his face. Now that it’s all over, he can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen to them. He doubts he’ll be allowed to stay at the palace with Kenma. He’s not of royal blood. He’s just a captain of the border guard. And if there are men on the council that are still loyal to Kenma’s father . . . what will they say about this?

He drops the cloth onto the floor, before wrapping his arm around Kenma’s waist. He presses close to his side, propping himself up on one elbow, as he looks down into his face once more.

“You’re staring,” Kenma says after a moment.

“Can you blame me?” Tetsurou asks. He reaches up to stroke Kenma’s cheek lightly. “You’re so beautiful.”

Kenma snorts, looking away. Tetsurou looks down at the mark he made on Kenma’s neck. He touches it with his fingertips.

“What’s going to happen now?” he asks quietly.

Kenma doesn’t answer for a moment. “I want . . .” he starts hesitantly before stopping. He licks his lips, turning his gaze back onto Tetsurou. “I want you to stay with me.”

“I will,” Tetsurou says immediately. “You know I will. But how will that work?”

Kenma bites his lip. “I want to make you the captain of the palace guard. Just until I can weed out the last of my father’s men on the council. Once I’ve replaced them, I’ll introduce you to the kingdom as my lover.”

Tetsurou grins. “The emperor’s lover. I like the sound of that.”

Kenma smiles faintly. “Not only that, though. I’ll want you by my side during council meetings and royal ceremonies . . . I want you by my side throughout my entire reign as more than just my lover. As my companion. My partner.”

“I want that too,” Tetsurou assures him. “I love you, Kenma. I mean it.”

Kenma reaches up to touch his cheek lightly, stroking his fingers down to Tetsurou’s jaw, where they linger. “I love you too,” he murmurs.

Tetsurou bends to kiss him gently, a soft, tender press against his lips before he pulls back. “My Kenma.”

Kenma smiles again, wider this time. “My Tetsurou.”

Tetsurou buries his face in Kenma’s neck, resting beside him with a contented sigh. Six years he’s waited for this moment, and now he doesn’t want to let it go.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks hopefully.

Kenma’s arms wrap around him, holding him close. “Yes,” he says simply.

Tetsurou closes his eyes, satisfaction relaxing his tired muscles.

For the first time in a long time, he’s really, truly happy. This is where he belongs. With his Kenma, as his Tetsurou.

**Author's Note:**

> And so they all live happily ever after. XD
> 
> ((poor Yaku didn't get his food, unfortunately. but it's okay because Kuro invites them all to the palace for a grand feast once he's established as Kenma's partner, hehe))
> 
> http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


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